Sleeping Under the Scars
by SomethingAboutAllison
Summary: They'll turn back into stars someday. Auslly Austin Moon/Ally Dawson one-shot drabble.


**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Austin Moon, Ally Dawson, Ross Lynch, Laura Marano, or Austin & Ally.

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I had to call her. I had to make sure she was okay. I had to know she hadn't turned to the knife again. Hell, I had to see her.

I had to.

I grabbed my jacket and my guitar. If she was upset, I'd play her a song and sing to her until she calmed down. Ally had been cutting for months now, and I knew how to deal with her. I had yet to convince her to get treatment. I was easing her into the idea of getting help. For now, I was her medicine.

I scaled the chain-link fence that bordered her backyard. I climbed the tree you could use to get to her window. She was sitting on her bed, her head between her knees. I knocked on the window; she opened it and helped me in. I instantly embraced her. She rested her cheek against my chest.

"Let me look," I whispered, gently taking her wrists in my hands. I examined the scarred skin for new marks; I couldn't find any. She looked at me blankly. I knew she was guilty of something. I looked down at the ground and caught sight of her ankle, which was graced with six neat new cuts.

"Ally..." I whispered softly. I looked at her, trying to replace the disappointment in my eyes with concern. I didn't want to make her feel any worse than she already did. She looked down, but I tilted her chin up so her eyes met mine again. "Ally why did you do this?" I asked.

She looked away from my eyes. "I just...I don't know. I don't know how to make myself stop feeling this way..." she admitted in a whisper, tears forming in her eyes. I sat us down on the bed and wrapped my arms around her. "Ally, if you're feeling this way, you really need to go see a therapist. Your parents won't be upset with you, I'd promise. They'd much rather you get help than keep suffering like this," I said softly. She leaned into me. "I just...I don't want them to find out because it'll get complicated. I'm scared they'll look at me differently," she explained. I shook my head. "They're your parents. They'll understand, and they'll always love you," I assured her.

I took her into the bathroom and cleaned up her cuts. I put a bandage over the cuts and we went back to sit on the bed. She laid her head in my lap. I shushed and soothed her, then offered music as a distraction. I had her lay down while I sat on the edge of the bed. I grabbed my guitar and started playing. Just me, just my guitar, just chords. But it made her forget stuff for a little while. And that made me feel better.

After a while she looked at me with droopy, sleepy eyes. I gave her a sad smile. "If you're tired, I could stay here for the night," I offered. Ally was my best friend and at this point, my main purpose in life. Sharing a bed with her wouldn't be sexual or weird or awkward or anything. It would be perfect.

"Could you?" she asked timidly, staring up at me with lost doe eyes. I nodded and smiled at her. She smiled back and scooted over so I could lay next to her. She let me lay close to her, and even let me hold her for a little while. And that made me happy. I felt like I had a purpose when I was with her. My purpose was to make her happy and to keep her alive.

I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to. I watched Ally as she floated off into dreams, hopefully dreams that were a lot better than this reality. That's what I hated about the world sometimes. There's too much reality here and not enough dreams.

Before she woke up, I wriggled out of bed and took away all her razors and scissors. I hid them in my guitar case so I could get rid of them later. Then I got back into Ally's bed and held her. I wanted to make sure she slept okay. Because she was sleeping under the weight of her own scars, and that could get hard sometimes. I wanted to be there for her until she was okay again, and beyond that, too. I wanted to lay like this forever. I wanted to be the one shielding her from her own scars. The roof above her head so she wouldn't have to see the rain. That's all I wanted for her. If she had to sleep under her scars, I'd stay with her until they turned back into stars again, and long after that.


End file.
